


Good to You

by QuinTalon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Co-workers, Dancing, F/M, First Kiss, Inspired by Music, Mutual Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24953455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinTalon/pseuds/QuinTalon
Summary: He wasn’t worthy of her, and yet he knew that if given the chance he would give her everything.She knew that he would never look her way, and yet she knew that they would be good together.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 35
Kudos: 128
Collections: Into the New Millennium





	Good to You

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Into_the_New_Millennium](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Into_the_New_Millennium) collection. 



> Written for Into the New Millennium Flash Fiction Competition hosted in Dumbledore’s Armada. Thank you to my beta who will remain anonymous until reveals. 
> 
> Song Title: Good to You  
> Artist: Marianas Trench  
> Year: 2009

He’s not sure when his fascination—infatuation—for her started. Perhaps during their years at Hogwarts when she proved time and again that she was incredibly intelligent and talented, a stark contrast to all he had been taught. Perhaps during the war when he witnessed her unfailing bravery in the face of his insane aunt and again during the Final Battle. Perhaps it was during his trial when she walked in, head held high as she spoke on his behalf, once again exuding kindness and compassion he was wholly unused to. Or perhaps it was when she greeted him with a warm smile and encouraging nod on his first day at the Ministry while everyone else looked at him with contempt and disgust.

He knows it was there when she first invited him to join her for lunch when no other table would acknowledge him in the crowded cantina. It was there when he overheard her berating her friends for speaking ill of him. It was there when she declared him to be her favored colleague and that she was excited to be working with him.

It was all of those moments though that led him to this. To the startling revelation that the regard he had hidden and left unacknowledged for so long had grown and spread and deepened into something more; something wonderful and terrifying and all-encompassing.

He was in love with her. Illogically, irrevocably, and inconveniently in love.

He stood no chance with her. There was no way that amazing, gorgeous witch would ever deign to look his way and consider him. He was so far beneath her, a mere speck in the tapestry of her life.

If only, he thought. If only she could see him as he was now and not as the arrogant hateful boy he had been. He had worked hard to become a better man, to overcome his past and his prejudice, to be a person he could be proud of.

Without her even knowing, she was influencing him and driving him to succeed in that goal. She had become his compass, the guide he used as he strived to be kinder, more thoughtful, repentant. Redeemed.

He wasn’t worthy of her, and yet he knew that if given the chance he would give her everything. He would treat her the way she deserved. He would cherish her, worship her, support her, take care of her, love her until his dying breath. And she in turn would shine her light on him and obliterate the darkness lingering within.

She would be his queen because he would hold her up above all others.

* * *

  
  


Draco watched with clenched fists and pressed lips as she twirled across the dance floor in the arms of that obnoxious git McLaggen. She looked perfectly poised, moving gracefully with a bright smile. She looked happy to anyone who glanced her way. 

But Draco could see the tightness around her eyes, hear the fake tone in her laugh. He knew her well enough to notice the tiny cracks in her cheerful facade.

He could not understand why she was here with a man she detested. Why she was pretending to enjoy herself with him. 

Why she was letting him practically feel her up on the dance floor. 

Draco had counted at least four times Hermione had removed the wizard’s hand from her arse. His eye twitched as McLaggen made attempt number five. 

Despite knowing he had no right to do so, Draco was seconds away from punching the bastard right in his smarmy face and whisking Hermione away. Just as he took a step forward, the song ended and Hermione yanked herself out of her date’s arms with what looked like a stern rebuke. She spun on her heel and made her way through the crowd towards him. 

Without thought, Draco strode to meet her.

They met on the edge of the dancefloor, and Draco’s breath caught at the sight of her. She looked truly happy for the first time that evening, a brilliant smile stretching her lips as she looked up at him. 

The next song began to play, a soft sweet melody that called forth thoughts of spring and flowers and first loves. 

Without a word, Draco extended his hand to hers and relished in the feel of her fingers sliding across his. He pulled her to him as they began to sway, losing himself in her eyes.

* * *

She didn’t know when her preoccupation—regard—for him began. Maybe it was during Sixth Year when she saw him fading away from the weight of his task or his obvious reluctance during their few encounters during the war. Maybe it was his choked but sincere words of gratitude after his trial or the way his eyes had stayed on her during her testimony. 

She knows there was a glimmer of it there when she received his beautifully worded letter three weeks later, full of regret and apologies and sorrow for his past actions. The one that she kept and read countless times. 

It was there when he gave her a tentative smile his first day at the Ministry, when he looked shocked but grateful when she invited him to join her for lunch, when her first reaction upon hearing they would be working together was excited anticipation with a dash of hope that she would get to know the man he had become.

He didn’t believe in blood purity anymore. She could see it in his actions, hear it in his words. He had changed, become better. He was a good man. A man she could see herself with. A man she could spend a lifetime with. 

A man she recently admitted to herself that she loved. Deeply, painfully, fervently loved.

She knew that he would never look her way, never see her as more than a co-worker, never deem her a worthy partner. They were from two different worlds: pure-blood and Muggle-born, Slytherin and Gryffindor, obnoxiously wealthy and comfortably middle-class, confident bachelor and outspoken bookworm.

And yet, she knew that they would be good together. Be good  _ for _ each other. The making of each other. Their differences could become their strengths.

If he gave her a chance, they could have something amazing. Dazzling. Life-altering. 

Forever.

* * *

Hermione’s heart raced as she danced in the arms of the man she ached to hold for longer than the strains of the song.

She had watched Draco throughout the evening, noticing his eyes on her more than once. Or more accurately, on her date and his wandering hands.

Cormac had been a surprisingly pleasant date at the beginning. Before he had his fifth glass of wine and his inner-lech came out to play, that is. 

His refusal to keep his hands to himself and his increasingly vulgar suggestions had nearly cost him a nasty hex to his nether region, but as she did not want to make a scene, Hemione settled for quietly eviscerating him with words before stalking away.

He was forgotten as soon as she turned and saw Draco across the ballroom.

Now she was in his arms, and Draco’s grey eyes bored into hers with an intensity she had never seen directed at her before. Like he was memorising her features, catalouging each freckle, studying the myriad of colours in her eyes. Like maybe he yearned for her as she yearned for him.

He twirled her faster as the song reached its crescendo, pulling her closer and closer until there was no space left between them. They were both panting when they came to a stop, her skirt swirling around them.

She didn’t want the dance to end. She didn’t want to let go and break this moment. She clutched him tighter, praying he would allow her just a moment more.

A soft smirk graced his lips before he gently guided her hand to his chest, giving it a squeeze before letting go. He then cupped her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. 

Hermione’s heart stuttered and then stopped altogether as their lips met in the most achingly sweet kiss of her life. 

She ran her hand up his neck and into his hair, pulling herself up on her toes to get closer, pressing her lips more firmly against his and hoping he could feel how much she wanted this, wanted him.

The kiss turned hungry, and Hermione lost herself to it, only stopping when they were gasping for breath.

His joyous grin matched her own, and she knew. A giggle bubbled up and slipped out as she was overcome with relief and excitement and the blissful realisation that he felt the same. 

His eyes only left hers for a moment as he took in their surroundings, remembering they were still in a crowd of people. Draco smiled down at her and cocked his head in the direction of the exit, his silent question obvious. 

Hermione laced her fingers through his as they stepped out into the night, together.


End file.
